


Cloudburst

by kikiirin



Category: Free!
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-17
Updated: 2016-07-17
Packaged: 2018-07-24 16:59:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7516036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kikiirin/pseuds/kikiirin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two friends get caught in a thunderstorm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cloudburst

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ariviand](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariviand/gifts).



> For Jesse, who requested MakoHaru fluff as a pick-me-up and my fujoshit heart was all too happy to oblige. 
> 
> This fic takes place after S1E6. You know the one.

_“It looks like rain_ …”  
  
Holding a raised palm to the sky to feel for droplets as a roll of thunder echoed in the distance, Makoto decidedly quickened his pace to retrieve his best friend from the school’s pool. The captain had already changed back into his school uniform, albeit foregoing a shower in his rush, and bid a “see you tomorrow” to Nagisa and Rei back in the clubroom. Even Gou, who usually stayed behind to help Makoto coax Haruka out of the pool (perhaps feeling it her duty as manager despite never actually being much help in the matter regardless) had not been far behind in bowing out to beat the oncoming storm.  
  
And so, that left just the two of them. As Makoto walked towards the edge of the pool, Haruka was already making his way to the other side, thrusting his fingers into the water’s surface and carving an opening that his body slid through in ambient fluid motions. The sight was so graceful, so dolphin-like, that, no matter how many times he witnessed it, Makoto could not help but to momentarily stare in awe. When Haruka made the turn and started to swim towards him, he crouched down and extended a hand, a warm smile on his face as he called out in a gentle voice:  
  
“Haru-chan.”  
  
Haruka was not oblivious to things like the weather when he is in the water; after all, he could feel the tickle of the intermittent raindrops splashing onto his back while lapping across the pool. It was soft enough and a little colder than the pool water, allowing him to distinguish between the two. Then there was the rumble of thunder, muted and faint as his head alternated between being submerged and exposed to the air as he stole a breath. It was almost rhythmic—the rumble and the steady hum of being underwater, stroke by stroke, as he swam back.  
  
The approaching storm was not enough to immediately spoil his time in the pool, but as Haruka approached the wall, head jerking above the surface of the water, he was greeted by the sound of thunder in the distance followed by Makoto’s voice. That caused him to pause and glance up at the proffered hand, the strong arm, and finally, his friend’s smile.  
  
That changed things.  
  
He tossed his head to shake the water from his hair before looking back up at Makoto, and after a moment, he lifted his right arm, grabbing hold and allowing the other boy to give him the leverage he needed to rise from the water.  
  
“Drop the ‘ _chan’_.”  
  
But Makoto’s smile remained, ever-widening in friendly amusement despite saying nothing in response, and he rarely ever did. After years spent together, he could not help but to slip in the ways of their childhood, perhaps due in part because Nagisa persisted in calling him that, too. Either way, the taller boy did not appear bothered in the slightest as he helped pull his friend out of the pool with a gentle tug, uniform now splotchy from the water that had splashed him during the exchange. Despite his occasional grievances regarding Haruka’s persistence in staying in the water, he accepted this ritual of sorts, for it came with being friends with Haruka, really. From dragging him out of his leisurely morning baths before school to out of the pool in the late afternoons after swim club practice had long ended, Makoto was already well-accustomed to it. Haru was Haru, after all.  
  
“We should probably start heading back soon.”  
  
Their gaze met momentarily before Makoto focused his line of vision past him, at the raindrops breaking the surface of the pool at a quickening pace, watching as they formed circular ripples that widened before disappearing as the water smoothed, only to be broken again by yet another droplet only inches away.  
  
“Here’s a towel.”  
  
It was just like Makoto to be so perceptive of him, and Haruka thanked him—not with words, but with his eyes. He rubbed the soft fabric against his hair and face to dry off, letting it drape around his shoulders when he was done and making his way towards the clubroom, Makoto following behind like a stray cat. Even though they were on nature’s time limit, Haruka still took his time in washing off the remaining pool water that had become lukewarm against his skin. There was something about the way it felt that he never liked, perhaps because allowing the droplets to adjust to his body temperature left the act unconsummated, like reciting only half of a sutra. He had to rinse himself to complete his routine. Makoto waited patiently all the while, though his eyes kept wandering to the window nervously and taking note of the ever-darkening sky.  
  
After Haruka had finished and dressed, they left the school together as they always did, Makoto talking about some random occurrence and Haruka half-listening while watching the ocean waves lap against the shoreline, one foot in front of the other, walking home. It is not as if he found Makoto boring, but rather that his friend had the habit of filling the silence between them. It was difficult to adjust to at first, but years of friendship later, Haruka found himself rather fond of hearing his friend’s voice break through even his most persistent of thoughts.  
  
It was not long into their trip that their fragile moment of calm was interrupted by a sudden, loud clap of thunder, and Haruka could feel a gentle tug at the hem of his shirt. They had little time to react when the sky opened up and started pouring thick, heavy drops relentlessly down upon the earth. That was when he grabbed Makoto’s hand and ran.  
  
They ended up seeking shelter at an abandoned fishing shack on the wharf. It was probably not the safest place to be, but it provided a dry place to stay for the time being, sans the small leaks in the roof. Haruka stood mouth shut, breathing hard through his nose, controlling the heaving in his chest after the mad dash. He could hear Makoto panting behind him, though it was soon drowned out by the sound of the storm overhead.  
  
“Makoto. Are you scared?”  
  
Haruka knew he was without having to ask by the way his friend continued to maintain a grip his shirt so tight his knuckles were white, but he also knew he found words to be encouraging at times like these.  
  
As Haruka turned to face him, Makoto nodded with his eyes squeezed shut.  
  
“Sit down.”  
  
He spoke evenly, calmly, and Makoto did as he was told. Even though he was one of the tallest in their class, he never learned to use his size to his advantage and was often scared of childish things. But Haruka never made fun of him; instead, he always came to his aid, without ever expecting anything in return.  
  
And this time was no different.  
  
Once he was seated on the wooden bench did Haruka follow suit, so close that their shoulders touched. Even though Makoto was shivering from a combination of cold, wet clothes and fear, having Haruka’s warmth beside him allowed his tense body to relax. They sat in silence, side by side, until Makoto was able to calm down.  
  
“Haru—”  
  
“Are you feeling better now?”  
  
He nodded once again, and Haruka rested his head against his shoulder, like Nagisa would often do when he fell asleep on him. It may have been strange for Haruka of all people to initiate, but he wanted to help his friend, not because he was as selfless as Makoto believed, but because Haruka was always trying to repay him for _his own_ kindness. Makoto not being by his side was a scarier thought that he would care to admit, with what happened during their training camp having driven that sentiment home. While Haruka refrained from actually vocalizing it because it  _should_  be obvious, Makoto was– _is_ –important to him. He needed no other reason for his actions. Nor was he going to give one.  
  
But being this close to his childhood friend like this allowed Haruka to take in the chlorine scent sticking to his hair and his skin, and it made him realize how selfish he had been for taking his time.  
  
“Sorry.”  
  
Makoto looked genuinely surprised by the whole ordeal, much less the apology. “For what?”  
  
“Nothing.” He quickly turned his head, traces of color on his cheeks. If Makoto did not understand without it having to be explained to him then so be it, but Haruka would _not_ be repeating himself. As it was, his friend could not help but to smile.  
  
“Thanks, Haru.”  
  
And there they sat watching the rain, listening to the soft  _pitter_   _patter_  of the droplets and the beating of their hearts.


End file.
